


Pins and Needles

by rebiTV



Category: Persona 5, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: 2/2, Hawks's shitty self-crit, Hero Public Safety Commission Bashing (My Hero Academia), Hurt Takami Keigo | Hawks, I mean it's the intro scene of p5 so, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Original Character Death(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Touch-Starved Takami Keigo | Hawks, Villain Takami Keigo | Hawks, Whump, Whumptober 2020, canon-typical police brutality, tma inspired/referenced, vague shuake because I couldn't resist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26757250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebiTV/pseuds/rebiTV
Summary: Whumptober 2020 collection! Using thispromptlist
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Dabi/Takami Keigo | Hawks, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko/Todoroki Natsuo
Comments: 13
Kudos: 113
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Let's Hang Out Sometime

**Author's Note:**

> Waking up Restrained / Shackled / Hanging
> 
> Some Hotwings to start us off. As the #1 Hawks fan it's my responsibility to make sure he gets hurt.

Hawks opens his eyes, or tries to at least. It feels like his head has been filled with lead.  _ Not just my head _ he thinks after a moment as he tries to move his wings, only to be met with metal encircling the base. Even detaching his feathers feels herculean, and it’s then that he realizes he’s been drugged. 

He needs to take stock of his situation. That’s the first of these situations. Even with his brain muddled, he remembers his training well enough. He tries to move his arms; restrained. He moves his feet, they feel like they’re moving through a thick liquid, but they’re free. They’re in the air though. He’s suspended, he realizes. 

Suddenly his head starts spinning. Or splitting? He looks around wildly, but everything’s blurry. He can just make out a figure standing in front of him, moving his mouth. _ Oh, _ he thinks belatedly, his thoughts running miles behind.  _ He hit my head to get my attention.  _ He tries to focus on the person in front of him, but he can’t make out more than a blurry figure, can’t even make out what he’s saying.  _ Counterproductive _ Hawks thinks.  _ To drug me to the gills and then expect me to pay attention.  _

Whatever wide-eyed stare he’s giving to his captor seems to be a good enough facsimile to attention for them though, so Hawks fixes his expression there and tries to think. He doesn’t know who’s captured him. Was his cover blown with the league? Did some rival criminal group learn about his “alliance” with them? Was it something completely unrelated? Without being able to even make out the facial features of his captor,  _ captors now,  _ he slowly realizes, finally seeing the two other figures that have joined the first, he can’t even begin to guess. 

He’s slapped suddenly, the volume of the voice getting sharper. He puts a renewed effort into understanding what’s being said to him, but it just sounds like a mush of words. The blurry figures turn and argue with each other, and Hawks realizes that he is probably going to die here. He can’t find a way to fight back, and if the figures are trying to bargain with him, he can’t understand them. 

He lets himself just sit with that thought for a moment, feeling less than he thought he would. He can’t really muster up fear or sorrow, he mostly just feels disappointed in himself. The commission trained him for this right? Shouldn’t he be able to overcome it? He shouldn’t just be giving up. 

He should at least be able to put a face to his murders. 

His eyes lose focus again, and when they clear, all he can see is blue. _It’s Dabi_ he thinks. _Was he one of the figures?_ _Is he killing me? Dying by fire should be more painful. Maybe it’s the drugs._ Dabi is closer now. Hawks still can’t really make out his face, but he recognizes his eyes. _Blue blue blue. Why did his contact have to be so pretty? Completely unfair. But I guess it’s kind of nice, to be killed by something beautiful._

Dabi is touching his wings now, or more specifically, the shackles around them. Hawks doesn’t bother suppressing a shiver.  _ Warm. Even when he’s only barely touching me.  _ The shackles come off and Hawks lets his wings droop, losing their fight with gravity. 

Dabi reaches for his hands next. Hawks wonders if he is freeing him just to kill him somewhere else, since even without the shackles he’s in no state to fight back. He wonders if this is some kind of rescue mission, and his cover is safe after all. He decides in the moment that it doesn’t really matter. 

His hands come free, and he suddenly falls forward, Dabi’s arms bracing his fall. With no clue if he’s his savior or his murderer, Hawks buries his face into Dabi’s chest.


	2. in the Hands of the Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Pick Who Dies" / Collars / Kidnapped
> 
> Ended up just using the kidnapping prompt for this one. A bit unsatisfied with how it turned out, but I'm glad I got try out Nastushig :')))

“You should really know better than to get involved with civilians.” 

The voice on the other end of the phone was robotic, clearly put through some filter, and immediately made Shigaraki’s shoulders tense. He kept his voice level as he replied: 

“Do you really think this is going to end well for you?”

Even through the filter, Shigaraki could hear smugness dripping off the other’s tone:

“Oh I think it’s going pretty well so far. But who knows? Should we ask Natsu-kun?”

Shigaraki heard shuffling before the unmistakable sound of Natsuo Todoroki’s voice, clearly in pain, came through his phone’s speaker. He inhaled shakily, before speaking, all in one breath: 

“I’m being kept in a warehouse not more than an hour out from the city the man who has me has a biohazard symbol tattoo and is wearing-” He cut himself off with a grunt, presumably having been kicked in the stomach.

“Hey, don’t get chatty now.” 

It’s enough to go off of, Shigaraki thought. Some of the tension drains out of his shoulders, but he keeps his voice guarded. 

“So, what exactly are you trying to achieve with this?”

“Resources. It’s not fair that the league gets to hog those Nomus to themselves right?”

Despite the other’s words, Shigaraki noted with satisfaction that their words had gained a tint of unease. Shigaraki’s split lip stung as he grinned fully. 

“Sure. We can send some Nomus down to you. Oh, and if Natsuo-kun has a hair disturbed, you can be sure everyone you love will have one sent to them as well.”

Shigaraki hung up, cutting off the other’s sputtered protest before they could start.


	3. My Way or the Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manhandled / Forced to Their Knees / Held at Gunpoint
> 
> So how about p5's opening scene huh? ACAB. didn't use the gunpoint prompt but hey it happens later in game so *gestures vaguely* also since Akira doesn't have a canon birthday I just assumed he was still 16 at this point in game *shrugs*

Akira was afraid. 

He wasn’t a stranger to fear, but fear came in different breeds. There was the prickling fear of walking home alone in an unfamiliar place. The pinching realization at being treated with suspicion anywhere he went. The creeping fear of being left alone, of being insufficient, unreliable, not enough, of losing the people he cared about. 

Then there was the rush of fear-adrenaline-excitement that he could get addicted to, that came from fighting shadows, from being Joker, from playing darts with Akechi. 

This was not like those kinds of fear.

This was a dizzy helplessness, the same kind that came when he had first been arrested (Funny how this fear seemed to be exclusive to law enforcement). This fear didn’t make him feel like a gentleman thief, like a man dancing an exhilarating dance with the devil, it made him feel like a child. Or an object. Like a faulty piece of machinery being beaten until it turned back on.

His injuries didn’t drive his adrenaline forward, didn’t make him want to see how far, how fast he could push himself. They only made him think how fragile he was, how Joker was only a mask, and under it was only 16 year old Akira Kurusu, on the verge of crumbling. 

The cop in the room with him dragged him to his knees by the hair, shoving a confession under his face. Everything was moving too fast and too slow, everything all at once. Taking his silence as defiance, the cop stomped hard on his leg, and Akira cried out. He took the offered pen and signed his name. He wasn’t being defiant. 

But that didn’t matter. He saw it in the cop’s hard gray eyes, any understanding shut like a steel door. 

The cop would not kill him. He had faced things that wanted him dead and been less afraid. Because the yellow eyes of shadows nonetheless  _ saw  _ him. Looked straight at the white mask of Joker. To them he was a threat, a nuisance, a problem, but never an object. He remained a person. 

Akira sat in the steel chair of the interrogation room, afraid, and tried to hold himself together.


	4. Running out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caged / Buried Alive / Collapsed Building
> 
> Had some trouble with this prompt, (hense the later update time) but I'm fairly happy with how it ended up.

Midoriya didn’t understand what was going on. They were in the middle of rescue training, he was off with Todoroki, and then everything got very loud and very fast. 

The building they were in was built to mimic collapsed buildings but this wasn’t- this couldn’t be part of it. The building was supposed to be  _ collapsed, _ not  _ collapsing.  _

_ Were we attacked by villains? Was there an accident? Do the teachers know what happened? _

Blinking hard and trying to get his head to clear, Midoriya tries to take stock of the situation. 

It’s then he realizes he can’t see Todoroki. 

_ “Shit”  _ he breathes, whipping his head around wildly.  _ He was just here, he was just here!  _

He takes a deep breath. He’s going to be a hero, he needs to stay calm. He starts to step around the room he’s in, trying to be careful not to disturb any precarious pieces of debri. The building shudders around him like something living, like he’s within the ribs of a dying beast. His head is spinning. 

_ The human body is very delicate. It won’t matter how powerful Todoroki’s quirk is if he got knocked out. Most people don’t die in blazes of glory, they die in underwhelming accidents. Even heros. Even teenagers.  _

He shuts his eyes tight. He’s not going to think like that. He’s not going to panic when there’s no reason to. ( _ Yet). _

He tries to focus on where Todoroki would most likely be. Tries to focus on nothing else. 

He doesn’t hear faint footsteps approaching, the mingling sounds of his classmates and teachers growing closer. His vision focuses only on the flash of red hair peeking out under collapsed pillars.

His body moves before his brain can catch up and he’s there, and Todoroki isn’t trapped, but he does have blood running down his forehead. For a long moment it’s like everything stops, and all Midoriya can think is:

_ The human body dies quickly. Quicker than heroes can be, sometimes. You hit the wrong place a bit too hard and it’s all over- _

  
And then Midoriya feels his pulse and it’s _there, it’s there,_ _he’s breathing._ And Midoriya’s world comes back together. Time restarts in a shaky cascade, and he can hear the voices of his friends outside, and he holds Todoroki and breathes. 


	5. Where do you Think You're Going?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the Run / Failed Escape / Rescue
> 
> Villain Hawksssss Ah Love Youuuuuuuuu

Dabi was having a bad day. 

He wasn’t sure what happened, how he had been tracked down, all he knew was that one moment he had been halfway back from some trivial errand, and the next he had walked straight into an ambush. 

And that was what it was, unquestionably, if the heroes' quirks were anything to go by. The match up was too good for it to have been coincidence. Dabi would be tempted to laugh if he didn’t feel so pathetic- the gaudily dressed heroine’s quirk sucking the heat out of his flames and converting it into water, the fight over before it even had a chance to start. 

He didn’t notice her sidekick, some young guy in a reflective jacket, until his hand landed on the back of his neck, and then his world exploded. 

(Keigo would tell him later that his Hero name was Kaleidoscope, and his quirk allowed him to cause disorientation and visual hallucinations to those he made physical contact with. Dabi would shoot back that he didn’t particularly care about the specifics of some dead sidekick’s quirk.)

He bit back a yelp that threatened to climb up his throat. It was like the world had  _ shattered. _ Everything was too bright. Shutting his eyes didn’t help. He stumbled in place, but he could hardly understand where his limbs  _ were, _ much less get them to do something useful.

And then, as quickly as it had broken apart, the world came back together. 

He looked down at his hands, which had been put in quirk-suppressing cuffs at some point. He felt a thick emptiness settle under his ribs. This wasn’t exactly the blaze of revenge-glory he wanted to go out in, but at least he didn’t feel like his brain was being torn apart.

“You good over there Dabs? We really don’t have time to be loitering here.”

Dabi looked up at the familiar voice, and was met with the sight of Keigo standing over two corpses. He held up his cuffed hands wordlessly.

“Oh! Give me a sec.” Keigo said, sending a feather to pick the lock. They fell with a hard clunk on the pavement. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but why are you even here bird?” Dabi had left Keigo back at their apartment, flipping through shitty tabloid mags and laughing at all the wild theories about his disappearance.

“I got bored.” Keigo shrugged.

A good a reason as any, Dabi thought

“But we really have to go like, now. Saving your ass from an obvious ambush is not exactly how I envisioned my illustrious villain debut, you know.” Keigo was pouting, coming towards him with talons outstretched. Dabi tried to control his expression but-

“You  _ absolutely  _ cannot complain about motion sickness. You got yourself into the mess and now you must face the consequences.” Keigo was grinning wide, the bastard, clearly harboring no sympathy as he maneuvered Dabi into a bridle carry and took off flying back towards their apartment. 

“I should have just let them arrest me.” Dabi says through clenched teeth, hands gripped tight on Keigo’s jacket.

He feels more than hears Keigo’s laugh, the world passing by them, blurry and beautiful. 


	6. Please...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Get it Out" / No More / "Stop, Please"
> 
> More Hawks content babeyyyyy

This is not how Dabi envisioned his night going. 

It’s not that he was surprised to see Hawks necessarily, the bird had taken to randomly crashing at his shitty apartment at around the same time he had taken to raiding the Hero’s fridge. What caught him off guard was the state he was in. He was wobbling on his feet, bent over a first-aid kit on the table. His usual expressiveness was absent from his face, and he was pale as a ghost. 

What was more alarming was that he didn’t notice Dabi’s approach. Hawks always seemed to see him coming. Bird eyes or something. But this time, Hawks didn’t look up until Dabi was right next to him. His golden eyes foggy and unfocused. 

“S-sorry, I’ll be out of your hair soon. I just need to get this out…” Hawks said, or rather slurred. Dabi’s eyes followed where Hawks was looking. There was a thick spine, about an inch and a half in diameter, sticking out of his forearm. Presumably with some kind of poison or quirk effect on it, if it was the cause of whatever was going on with Hawks, as Dabi suspected.

“What the fuck are you doing.” Dabi said, deadpan. 

Hawks flinched, ( _What the fuck, Hawks doesn’t flinch, doesn’t telegraph his fear so obviously-)_ “I’m sorry. I just need to get it out. Then I’ll go back to normal. I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, that’s-” Dabi huffs. “I mean why are you _here._ Why are you doing this by yourself? You’re the number two hero, shouldn’t you have like, a team of doctors or some shit? Or at least access to a damn hospital.”

Hawks shakes his head, his whole body tilting with the motion. “D-don’t want to bother them with this. It was a stupid mistake. It’s- they’ll just make me- I’ll feel useless.” 

Dabi considers this, not wanting to get too in the weeds of whatever Hawk’s relationship with his doctors was. “Then why not a hospital? Or at least your own place. A villain’s apartment isn’t exactly the safest place for this, hero.”

Hawks looked off somewhere in the middle distance, one hand fluttering around the base of the thorn. 

“Not ‘sposed to go to the hospital. Not for stupid things like this. My apartment-” he looks away. “Feels like the commission can see me in there. I don’t think they can but-. It’s stupid. Sometimes I feel like the walls will start closing in on me If I stay in there too long.” 

Dabi was silent for a long moment. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Hawks was apparently most comfortable licking his wounds in his apartment of all places. He didn’t have time to unpack all the bullshit that came with that revelation however, as Hawks moved once more to grip the base of the thorn. Dabi moved to stop him before his brain had fully caught up to his body. 

Hawks stared at him apprehensively. His eyes still bright and sharp even under the haze of delirium.

“Let me do it. Your hands are shaking, you’re just going to make it worse.”

Hawks looked between Dabi and his wound, having a silent argument with himself. “...okay.” 

Dabi dropped his hand, and hawks let it fall to his side. He was still staring at him, curiously this time, and Dabi dropped his eyes. 

Regardless of whatever emotion had moved him to help in the first place, Dabi was not one to draw things out. He gripped the spine by the base and tore it out with one hard tug. Hawks didn’t cry out, only swayed on his feet as Dabi wrapped the bandages from the first aid kit around his arm. 

When he looked up, Hawks was looking down at his bandages, his mouth dropped slightly open. He still looked out of it, but some of the fog had cleared from his eyes, his body drooping from exhaustion, rather than sickness. 

Hawks looked up, meeting Dabi’s eyes so suddenly he had to suppress a jolt.

“You’re so nice. Why are you nice? That‘s not fair.”

Okay, so maybe he was still pretty out of it, Dabi thought. “I’m really not.”

“You are. And your hands are warm.” Hawks nodded decisively, clearly having made up his mind. Dabi refused to blush at whatever shit a hero said to him when he was half out of his mind.

“Fine. Whatever. Just- you look like you’re about to pass out on your feet. Go crash on the couch or something. Go the fuck to sleep.” Dabi was going to get a headache. 

Hawks’ answering grin was less practiced then it usually was. Less TV Hero and more Shit-eating Bastard. “And you’re letting me stay over? Proooooof!”

“It’s like midnight! I’m not kicking you out when you’re high off your ass because of some quirk- Stop smiling at me like that! Fuck you, I’m not having this conversation. Go to bed.” 

Hawks flopped over the couch with a huff. At least he was listening to him. And he really did look exhausted. He barely managed to get out a slurred “G’night Dabs” before he passed out.

Dabi sighed. He was definitely going to regret this in the morning.

“Night birdie.” 


	7. I've Got You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Support / Carrying / Enemy to Caretaker
> 
> Finally had time to update this again. I suddenly started thinking about sdr2 again recently, so here's some komahina. Takes place during chapter 4.

“You’re going to waste your time hanging out with me again?” Komaeda’s voice held the same snide lilt it always did, but he was swaying on his feet. 

Not like Hinata could talk, he felt like he’s been running on fumes for weeks. Months. However long he’s been on this island. Time feels different when you’re starving, he’s quickly finding out. 

“Cut that out. I needed a distraction. I’ve just been stewing in my room all day.”

Komaeda smiles at him, and neither of them mention that there are a myriad of other people Hinata could’ve hung out with if he wanted to get out of his own head. 

“That’s fine with me. Let’s try not to exert ourselves, huh?” Komaeda chuckles, taking a step forward and promptly stumbling over his own feet. Hinata reaches out to steady him automatically, and Komaeda looks up at him apologetically. 

With their faces closer together, Hinata notices how worn out Komaeda looks for the first time. Everyone looks bad right now, forced to starve, and Komaeda had always looked like a strong wind could knock him over. But it was easy to forget with Komaeda. Between his ravings and his twisted optimism, he almost seemed… not indestructible, far from it, but like a constant. Like he could face down any tragedy with a smile and a speech about hope. 

And Komaeda  _ was _ smiling, as he pulled away from Hinata, but something about how his collar bone stood out even more obviously under his skin, the clear exhaustion under his eyes… it looked like his body was about to collapse in on itself, even if his mind still ran in incomprehensible circles. 

“Are you okay?” Hinata asked.

Komaeda looked back at him, slightly surprised. 

“Well, I’ve never had very good health. Withstanding something like this… well for someone like me it’s…” he chuckled. “That would be disappointing wouldn’t it? If I just died without anyone killing me? I wonder if Monokuma would even bother with a trial in that case.”

“I don’t want to talk about Monokuma. And you’re not going to die.”

“Oh?” Komaeda tilted his head. 

Hinata desperately wanted to change the track of this conversation. This was his punishment for asking after Komaeda’s wellbeing, he guessed.

He sighed. “Let’s just find a place to sit down.” 

“Of course.” 

Hinata had the distinct feeling he had lost a game of some sort, but he was too exhausted to care. Komaeda started walking again and Hinata-

Hinata went and steadied him again. He hadn’t even tripped this time, Hinata just… he didn’t know what he was doing. It was kind of nice to see Komaeda caught off guard for once though. 

“Hinata-kun, you don’t have to…” 

“I want to.”

Komaeda doesn’t have a response to that, for once, and Hinata resolutely starts walking. They are going to sit down and talk about nothing and Hinata’s going to spend an hour not thinking about their situation goddamn it. 

Komaeda looks bewildered, but he’s leaning just slightly on Hinata, and he’s quiet.

It’s nearly pleasant. 


	8. Where Did Everyone Go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't Say Goodbye" / Abandoned / Isolation
> 
> This ended up being less whump and more classic horror, but oh well. Midoriya's middle school is a really interesting environment for me. Also this was written with The Lonely from The Magnus Archives in mind, but you could view it as a more general ghost story if you want.

The school was abandoned. As far as anyone knew, it had always been that way. Unremarkable, despite its empty halls, it never had any ghost stories attached to it, no teenagers daring each other to take a step inside. It seemed to slide out of people’s memory, their notice. 

The school is abandoned, but it is not empty. 

A highschool boy takes a detour on his way home. He does not know why, just that his feet have led him to an unfamiliar place.

It is a school, empty, nature lapping its heels, reclaiming its structure. The highschool boy feels suddenly angry, frustrated, like something has been left unfinished, like something has been taken from him without his noticing. 

He stomps around aimlessly, sparks in his hands, flustered and bewildered. He keeps expecting to see-

…

There’s no one here. 

The boy shivers, the air suddenly dropping in temperature. There’s a feeling curling around his spine, frightening and familiar and  _ lonely.  _ Stark enough to feel like a physical thing, and the boy wants it  _ out,  _ wants to wrap his fingers around it and blast it to bits, he thought he’d gotten over feeling things like this. 

He leaves as suddenly as he came. Not because he was running away, he  _ wasn’t,  _ there wasn’t even anything to run away  _ from.  _ He just had better things to do than hang around some creepy abandoned building. He didn’t even know why he came in the first place. 

The school is abandoned, but it is not empty.

There is a boy in a middle school uniform who sits by the window. He watches the highschool boy from above, but does not think about him too much. His mind is preoccupied, filling notebooks, drawing up designs. 

The school is abandoned, and quiet, and for Midoriya Izuku, finally peaceful. 


	9. For the Greater Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Take me Instead" / "Run!" / Ritual Sacrifice
> 
> This is like half gay pining and half the horrifying implications of mind control/possession quirks.

Todoroki looked down at the map on his phone, double checking that he was going in the right direction. He was going to meet up with Midoriya, who had invited him out, saying he knew a restaurant he wanted to introduce Todoroki to. The gps led him to a less populated area, closer to Midoriya’s home than his own, which made sense, Todoroki figured. 

It was a very nice night out. The weather was almost perfect, just slightly warm. Todoroki was still getting used to feeling like this, this sleepy contentment. Going out with friends just for the sake of it, looking at people without immediately thinking about how his power compared to theirs, slowly rooting out the poisonous thoughts his father had put in his head. 

It was like a whole new world had opened up for him, or more like that world had existed all along, but he was suddenly allowed to see it. 

And Midoriya was right at the center of it, wrenching open the closed doors of his tunnel vision.

Speaking of, a flash of green broke him out of his reverie, spotting Midoriya leaning against a wall in casual clothing. He made his way towards him, only to slow when Midoriya turned his face towards him.

Something was wrong.

It wasn’t obvious, but Todoroki could see something swimming just under Midoriya’s expression. Like a flood about to reach its zenith, like a dam about to break. Midoriya smiled like he was about to fall to pieces. Todoroki froze in place, a few feet from the other boy.

“Did something happen?”

He looked surprised. “What do you mean? Nothing happened. Let’s go!” He tilted his head like a marionette, his face moving in a facsimile of ease. Something was wrong. 

“No. Midoriya. What happened?”

Midoriya stared back at him, his face suddenly, startlingly blank. Then his eyebrows scrunched together, and he spoke through clenched teeth, suddenly shivering from his fingertips to his shoulders. 

“Th’y said- quirk ‘ffect- not ‘sposed- said you wouldn’t-” He suddenly doubled over, a string of black fluid dripping to the pavement as he struggled for breath. Todoroki’s feet came unstuck and he closed the distance between them, putting his arms on Midoriya’s shoulders. His eyes were rolled back into his head. Todoroki needed to call someone. Something was very wrong.

The familiar sound of a finger bone breaking rang through the air.

Todoroki looked down, and suddenly the clarity had returned to Midoriya’s face. He let his broken finger hang between them. He looked worried, and determined, and afraid.

“Run.”

“Midoriya-”

“ _ Now.”  _ His voice was pleading, grating and raw. “You can’t help me. Get away, get the teachers, I can’t-” He cut himself off with a wet hacking cough, his whole body shuddering once more, as he placed his hands on Todoroki’s chest and shoved. 

Todoroki stumbled, could only watch Midoriya take unsteady, frantic steps backwards, as Todoroki took out his phone, attempting to contact Aizawa with shaking fingers as he did as he was asked.

He ran. 


	10. They Look so Pretty When They Bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood Loss / Internal Bleeding / Trail of Blood
> 
> A short one this time. Hawks just keeps getting hurt in this fic, huh?

This won’t be the first time Hawks has left red droplets staining the stairs up to his apartment. He hopes the cleaning staff isn’t too inconvenienced. He tries to avoid this as much as possible, he would’ve gone in through the window had he had feathers to spare. 

No dice this time though. He staggers back to his door, keeping a hand firm over the hole in his abdomen. Nothing vital was hit, he knows the injury is one he can deal with on his own, but still, he can’t stop the image of him spilling his guts on the dark green hallway carpeting from bubbling up in his mind. 

He needs a nap. Or a drink. Or for this day to be over.

Pushing aside his morbid thoughts, he gets the door to his apartment open and gets inside, making a beeline for the cabinet he keeps all his medical stuff in. Shrugging off his jacket, he spreads various disinfectants and bandages out on his table, throwing a towel on the couch before sitting down carefully on it. He’d learned the hard way that getting bloodstains out of couch cushions is a huge pain in the ass. 

He sighed, looking down at where his bleeding was finally starting to slow. Through the black of his undershirt and gloves, you could hardly even notice he was injured (which was the point he supposed) but he could certainly feel it. 

With little preamble, he lifts his shirt over his head. Best not to draw these things out. Luckily, no stray fibers had caught in the wound, but the quick press of the fabric against his wound still sent a bolt of pain through his abdomen. 

He looked at the wound, taking a breath. It was ugly, but it wouldn’t scar. At least there was some good news today.

He grabs his disinfectant, and gets to work. 


	11. Psych 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defiance / Struggling / Crying
> 
> Another P5 one. I know everyone and their mom has done a 2/2 fic but hey... this technically takes place after The Scene so its slightly different

Akira watched the door swing behind Akechi as he left. For a minute he just stood there, breathing steadily. Then he marched up the stairs to his room and laid down heavily on his bed. 

He could feel Morgana’s eyes on him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He did the right thing. He  _ knows  _ he did the right thing. To control Akechi’s life like that without his consent would be- it would be monstrous, he knows.

But  _ fuck. _

Why did everything have to be so difficult? Couldn’t they just exist, just live? Why did Akira have to be so  _ goddamn _ helpless in the face of every situation? 

Before he knew it, he was gasping, trying uselessly to keep his sobs from escaping his throat. Everything was just  _ too goddamn much.  _

If Morgana said anything, he did register it. But he can feel his weight leaning against his side, an anchor. He tried to hang on to that. To remember where he was, that he wasn’t alone at least. It was only partially helpful, afterall, he didn’t exactly want to be where he was. He wanted to be in the jazz club with Akechi, wanted to throw a pointless party with the thieves. Wanted, like a coward, to take Maruki’s deal.

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t be the one to hurt Akechi like that, after everything.

But that didn’t stop him from thinking about it. And it didn’t stop him from hating himself for thinking about it.

He took another ragged breath, his voice warbling on the inhale. He just wanted things to be  _ simple.  _ He wanted to be able to be seventeen. He was stuck lying here, on the edge of adulthood, feeling like the helpless child he’s always been, mourning a death for the second time in three months.  __

\---

Across the city, Akechi stares at the white walls of his empty apartment. He does not cry. His sorrow is sharpened into determination and rage, as it always is. 

Nonetheless, they grieve together. 


	12. I Think I've Broken Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Broken Down / Broken Bones / Broken Trust
> 
> Aka: Hawks' Shitty Self Esteem 2: Electric Boogaloo.
> 
> I just can't get enough of these Hotwings, huh? This is more classic angst then whump imo, but I'm still quite proud of it.

Dabi had been keeping his distance.

Hawks wondered if he would have even noticed if this had happened earlier, a few weeks or months ago. Before he got to know Dabi’s tells so well. It’s nothing obvious, he kept messaging him meet-up times, kept up the same caustic tone in conversations that had slowly developed into something resembling banter. Kept coming to Hawks’ apartment unannounced to raid his fridge. 

But there was clearly something missing.

It was hard to describe, but Hawks could  _ feel  _ it. Like something had slipped through his fingers. Like the intermission was coming to an end. 

A part of Hawks knew this was for the best. Whatever strange relationship he had formed with Dabi was destined to end in blood, or betrayal at the very least. It was better to rip the band-aid off early, as it were. He just had to hope whatever had made Dabi withdraw would compromise the mission. 

Another sneaking part Hawks hoped almost desperately that the mission  _ was _ doomed, because then it would mean that Dabi had retreated for an external reason. An obvious betrayal. Not because he had just grown sick of Hawks. 

(A more vicious part of him whispered that this was the obvious outcome. He had,  _ stupidly, _ begun to… not open up, but let cracks, hardly hairline fractures of whoever had survived under years of training and television-smiles show. The corpse of Keigo Takami reaching out to a burnt-out villain he was meant to betray. Of course Dabi wouldn’t want to deal with it. Deal with him.)

As much as Hawks wanted to spend the rest of the evening wallowing in self pity, said self pity’s point was currently being undercut by the fact that Dabi was, in fact, dealing with him at the moment. 

Hawks was currently off work for the weekend, following an incident that went south and left him with a few important bones broken. Dabi had, as usual, come in unannounced and, less usually, started puttering around like a mother hen. Hawks couldn’t help but find it funny, the way Dabi tried to help without making it obvious that he wanted to help, his pride fighting with his… affection? Attachment? Pity?

Whatever.

Maybe it wasn’t that funny after all.

Discontent crashed onto Hawks all at once, so suddenly he could almost physically feel it. He wanted to talk to Dabi plainly, didn’t want to lie to him or be lied to by him. He wanted to have a conversation that  _ meant  _ something, for once in his life. He wanted them to stop dancing around each other, wanted to let Keigo reach out and touch whoever was hidden underneath Dabi, to be touched as Keigo in return, the barriers between them finally destroyed. And if it was all going to end soon anyway-

“Dabi?”

Dabi stopped mid sentence. Hawks hadn’t heard the beginning anyway.

“Do you like spending time with me?”

The silence between them felt like a living thing. Malicious and squirming. Hawks regretted speaking almost immediately, and scrambled to take it back or play it off before Dabi cut him off.

“I don’t usually make it a habit to hang around the apartments of people I can’t tolerate, birdie.”

It wasn’t a direct answer, but it still made Hawks’ chest ache in a way that was unrelated to his broken ribs. Dabi was looking at him with a straightforward bluntness that was unique to him, and it made his answer clearer than it seemed.

This was going to end in blood, but selfishly, Hawks wanted to hold on to it for as long as possible. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If I missed anything in the tags, please let me know!


End file.
